The Hospice elevates my relationship with Jesus and Mary, the Holy Spirit exercising influence, the Father always abiding within love. Celebrating Christmas early with my family, I parted from a pleasant gathering to receive a call from the Hospice, calling for my service in Westlake, at the Ames Family Hospice Home. I was told an elderly gentleman, a cancer patient, was transferred to the facility after a suicide attempt. I was not sure what God was calling forth. My scheduler instructed me there would be plenty of medical personal to assist me if I felt overwhelmed by the patient’s needs. Matters proved so easy I feel ridiculous for doubting whether I was capable of handling a suicidal patient. The patient did have a startling surprise waiting for me. God never ceases to amaze during my Hospice experiences. It turns out the ninety-six year old patient grew up in the same town as me. We shared Temperance, Michigan as our hometown. Once he discovered the fact, he took the extreme coincidence in stride, accepting the matter as natural as can be, informing the nurses when they came to check on him that we had a lot to talk about since we were both from Temperance. I sat stunned, marveling at the wonders of God. He was talking about streets, buildings, some names that I knew intimately. For him, it was nothing at all. I saw no signs of depression or suicide as he was so elated to have someone to sit with him. He told me war stories detailing encounters with the Japanese, rambling and wandering all over the place, yet thoroughly entertaining. The man just wanted someone to talk to and he was a talker. The way he would smile, deeply enamored when looking at me as if we had been friends all our lives, warmed my soul comfortably. There was even a delightful moment late into the visit. Deep into the night, everything quiet in the expansively and refined Hospice facility, the patient sleeping sound—I fell asleep myself. I woke to the patient stroking my thigh, assuring me that everything was going to be alright. I could only chuckle. Of course, his reprieve from sleep led to more talking, stories and more names of people he knew from Temperance, this time mostly covering his crow hunting days as a boy in the woods west of Summerfield Road.
Speaking with the scheduler once I returned home, filling out timesheets he informed me regarding my Serbian patient. I posted details about meeting her son and grandson. Arriving at 11:30 PM Friday night immediately after work, I discovered the patient with her son and grandson lovingly on both sides of her bed. Our short conversation delved deeply into their mother, her grandson subtly expressing a deep lack of faith. The encounter was striking in spiritual relevancy. I learned the woman passed away before midnight, less than a half hour after the conversation. She waited upon her son and grandson.
Driving to my family Christmas gathering, I listened to a lecture by Archbishop Fulton Sheen on the marvels of Mary. It was a particularly favorite lecture of Father David Mary. It must always be kept in mind the immense intellectual and scholarly proficiencies of Archbishop Sheen. He was profoundly so much more than a media embracing priest. I felt it important to post this video. He presents some extremely powerful insight into the power and majesty of the relationship between Jesus and Mary.
